A blog dedicated to Songwriting Experiences and Coffee Talk

Main menu

Post navigation

The Smell of 4 below

Ice cubes and fresh cut linens
The smell of 4 below
I need something to warm
My chilled bones
From the crisp belligerent cold
Tiny crackles with gentle steps
An Indiana landscape windswept
I need to get home
This cold assaults you
Felt left alone
In this unbearable cold